


The Hive

by ColeR



Category: The Hive - Fandom
Genre: Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColeR/pseuds/ColeR
Summary: In a building outside of time...
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**  
**

**Prologue: Setting the Stage**

_In a building outside of time_ , tenants tend to the worries of individual workers. An apartment of cells. A hive of rooms. A foundation of waxy walls, strong enough to hold the sweet syrup of application, offers privacy for the intimacy of pupation. Few think to make a distinction between the old radiators rattling and the soft buzz of productivity. A cacophony of a seemingly chaotic nature scores the vignettes curated by the hidden hand. Like thistles caught on cotton pants, the pollen of personal experience clings to the residents of The Hive.

_The orchestra finishes tuning,_

_The lights slowly dim,_

_The stage is set,_

_And the curtains are drawn open._

**And with that, our story begins.**

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Queen resenting her throne wants not to be the Lord of the Flies. The Monarch burdened by responsibility has long since forgotten the hope of metamorphosis.

* * *

**Bee 1: Lord of the Hive**

_In a building outside of time,_ cracks of sunlight peer past the edges of the void. As if to signify the heralding of dawn, the songs of faceless bluebirds ring tangibility from nonexistence.

A closet of blazers stare back at a woman, trying to read her expression. Moments pass, a correlation between emotion and time. Somewhere between apathy and antipathy, the woman grunts blindly grabbing a jacket and tossing its hanger onto the floor. Already moving on with her day, perfectly polished fingertips methodically tap by her side.

It wasn’t that Bee hated being a Landlord. She found some voyeuristic gratification when watching her residence go about their daily lives, but when it came to the responsibilities of running a building Bee found it less... titillating? Nevertheless, obligation called and there were things to be done. 

As existentialism faded to cordial ambition, Bee knew the few moments she had to herself were quickly coming to an end. Throwing the essentials in her bag; she grabbed an apple, opened her door and stepped out into the dark apartment hall.

**And with that, our story begins.**

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you know worker Ants Can Lift up to 5,000 Times Their own Body Weight?

* * *

**Roxxy 1: Cold Mornings**

_In a building outside of time,_ a kitchen sits, an impression of the void. Closed blinds glow soft orange as the warm smell of bacon grease sits in opposition to the cold tile floor.

Callused hands make quick work of quiet moments. A correlation between generation and obligation. A breakfast made. A pillbox filled. Laundry folded.

Roxxy was the type of woman who ran on consistency. She saw patterns in Chaos and reason in contingency.

Already in her work uniform, Roxxy set down two plates on either side of the small kitchen table. She paused, just for a moment, catching her reflection in the round glass tabletop. An impression of the void? No. A woman as busy as she had neither the time nor privilege to contemplate monotony.

Roxxy looked around her small family apartment, the room still shaded in darkness. She hated how cold it made her feel, but it gave her the drive to get on with her day. The thermostat cover was coming off. She’d have to add that to her list. As the radiator slowly hummed to life, Roxxy opened the kitchen blinds bleaching the open living space with yellow hues. She sighed, already closing the apartment door behind her. She reached Into her jumpsuit, pulling out her list of responsibilities. This building wouldn’t run itself.

**And with that, our story begins.**

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you see me?

* * *

**Cole One: In Amber**

_In a building outside of time_ , light was light and void was void. Experience appealed to sense, a description of tone.

Two eyes stare up lost in the dance of a ceiling fan. Circular movements trace the shadows of cyclical moments. A correlation between comprehension and autonomy. Motivated by quotidiation, a man grapples with his morning routine; a page of Dukkha and a slave of continuance.

Cole counted down the seconds. A certainty as clear as clairvoyance itself. His migraines were getting worse, which is to say they were the same.

*𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸* Brush. A vibration. Spit. *𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸*

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

*𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸* Wash. Introspection. Dry *𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸*

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚙. 𝙷𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗-

*𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸* Zip. A reflection. Clip *𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸*

Though the sun was up and he was certainly late, Cole took his time buttoning his uniform. He of all people knew the importance of presentation, and wouldn’t let obligation preface appearance.

As he consciously masked morning unrest with afternoon indifference, Cole reached for the door. He stopped, hand still on the doorknob-

*𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸* *𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸* *𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸*

-before proceeding through the apartment door.


End file.
